


Day 7: Free

by CheshireJabberwock



Series: Oumota Week 2018 [7]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Drama, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Oumota Week 2018, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 00:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14705555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireJabberwock/pseuds/CheshireJabberwock
Summary: After being freed from the killing game simulation, Kaito tries to foster friendship between his sidekicks and his boyfriend. (It would probably have worked out better if he'd actually admitted he was dating Kokichi Ouma.) For Oumota Week 2018. A sequel to Day 1: Pregame.





	1. Kaito

**Author's Note:**

> A reminder from Day 1:  
> \-- The cospox was a lie/disguise itself; Tsumugi was cosplaying the NDRV3 kids to fake audition tapes and Rantaro’s lab video, so the videos are not representative of the pregame kids.  
> \--They were actually for real kidnapped, and their names are the same. They also don’t differ too radically from their ingame selves. Same natures, different nurtures, essentially.  
> \--The Danganronpa franchise does not have 53 seasons, but just what they have in our world: three games and two anime. Team Danganronpa created NDRV3 to boost their fame and fortune using new technologies, and kind of went off the deep end in the process.  
> \--NDRV3 takes place within a computer simulation, so everyone can wake up alive at the end.
> 
> This is a post-game sequel to my Day 1 fic. Be sure to read that first!
> 
> Warnings: Drama and angst, some emotional abuse, mentions of an abusive family, unrequited love (Maki -> Kaito <-> Kokichi love triangle).

The constant stream of nurses blurred together. A lawyer came and went and came and went, and frequently called to confirm this or that detail. There were TV crews right outside the hospital, visible from the window.

Kaito couldn’t process any of it. His eyes – hid mind, his heart – were locked on the small, prone form on the bed next to his.

Ouma would wake up, the nurses assured him. Something something the shock to the system of those who “died” in virtual reality was worse if the computer technicians back in reality didn’t have the time to prep them for extraction, so it could take longer for them to wake up. But they _would_ wake up.

Even without their attempts to comfort him, Kaito had never doubted that for a minute. Over the last six months, before they’d been jumped while fucking in a deserted alleyway, he’d come to know Ouma well. He’d never die that easy.

So why did Kaito remember killing him?

Of all the things from what had apparently been two weeks forcibly inserted into a simulated killing game, the only part Kaito could remember was pushing a button and watching his boyfriend get crushed by a hydraulic press.

That’s what had him so shaken, so horrified, so desperate to see Ouma’s eyes open, hear his voice.

Kaito didn’t remember the why or the what or the how or anything but that awful, awful image burned into his mind for all eternity. But it didn’t matter. All he cared about was what Ouma thought and felt about it.

Would he wake up and hate him? Not that Kaito would blame him if Ouma never forgave him, but… but…

“Momota-kun?” One of the nurses poked her head into the room. “Two of your friends would like to see you.”

Kaito wrestled himself back to as much alertness and coherency as he could manage. “I thought we couldn’t have visitors yet?”

“No, not from outside, but… you kids can visit each other, if you want.”

Oh. Kaito had heard “friends” and assumed she’d meant some of his buddies from school. He didn’t know anyone from the simulation but Ouma – but then, he couldn’t remember the actual simulation. Of course he would have made friends with them in there.

“Sure, send ‘em in,” Kaito said, shrugging.

The nurse nodded, and closed the door, only for it to fly open seconds later as a cute girl with long pigtails came tearing in like a whirlwind, red-rimmed eyes wet and wild. A dark-haired boy was right behind her, gaze fiercely hopeful. Tears spilled down both their cheeks when they saw him.

“Momota!” “Momota-kun!”

Guilt churned in Kaito’s chest. He didn’t want to break their hearts, but it was obvious that they must have been really close friends in the simulation, and, well…

They looked kind of familiar. Seeing them alive and well had flooded him with warmth and relief he wouldn’t have felt for total strangers. But that was all.

“Uh, hey.” Kaito rubbed the back of his head, and mustered up his most apologetic smile. “Nice to meet you for real, uh…?”

They both froze. The boy recovered first.

“Shuichi Saihara,” he said softly. “And this is Maki Harukawa.” His eyes searched Kaito’s face intently. “You don’t remember any of it? They told us you might not, but… Akamatsu-san at least recognized us, so we were hoping…”

“I mean, I’m definitely getting some déjà vu vibes,” Kaito admitted, “and I can remember… a little,” he swallowed down the lump threatening to rise in his throat, “and the nurses say I could remember more eventually, but… sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Saihara assured him – or started to, before Harukawa hissed.

“Why is _he_ in here?” she demanded, glowering at Ouma, still and pale and so, so small.

Kaito bristled, immediately defensive on Ouma’s behalf. Part of him felt a great deal of reluctance rebuking her for the venom in her voice, but he didn’t remember why, and he wasn’t the kind of shitty boyfriend who would sit back and let someone talk like that about his lover.

“I asked if we could share a room,” Kaito said, tone so short they both stared at him. “I wanted to see that he was – ” _Alive_. “ – okay.”

“H-huh?” Harukawa stammered, stunned hurt flashing across her face. Kaito recoiled a little, chagrined to have caused her pain.

“You two know each other, then?” Saihara interjected smoothly, and placed a steadying hand on Harukawa’s shoulder. Kaito shot him a grateful, sheepish grin.

“Yeah. He’s – ” Kaito hesitated. Why was he so reluctant to tell them? He’d never shied from laying it out bluntly before, but for some reason, his stomach twisted with anguish at the thought of telling these two. That wasn’t right. They were important to him, too. He could _feel_ it. They should know. They should _know_ – “ – my best friend.”

 _What the fuck are you thinking, dumbass,_ he cursed himself out.

But he knew exactly what the fuck he’d been thinking when Saihara and Harukawa looked so stricken and incredulous. Kaito’s defensive anger on Ouma’s behalf surged forward again ( _what was so wrong with being friends with him, that they reacted like that?!_ ), but he clamped down on it. He didn’t want to shout at them. He didn’t want to fight with them.

“So, they let you guys out of bed already?” Kaito asked, beaming at them both as he changed the topic and tone with an ease he’d learned from Ouma.

“Ah, yeah,” Saihara replied, relaxing enough to smile back. “We – and Yumeno-san – were awake first.”

“That’s great!” Kaito grinned. “I’m glad you guys are okay.” He surprised himself with how much affection entered his voice, and he laughed to further break the tension. “I wish I could remember the stuff in the simulation, but hey, just means I can get to know you all over again!”

Finally, Harukawa relaxed too, warmth in her eyes and a small smile on her lips. She and Saihara approached the bed, sitting next to him, and the three of them talked, and talked, and talked.

\---

Ouma woke around three a.m. the next morning. Kaito snapped out of a restless sleep at the tremulous sound of his name, and rose enough of a racket to get a nurse in within minutes.

Kaito watched fretfully as his boyfriend’s vitals were checked and he was given the explanation of what had happened. How they’d been kidnapped, forcefully inserted into a computer simulation, and had their memories tampered with. How they’d been made to play a killing game, that had been streamed live and marketed as an improved reboot of a franchise, with willing participants, complete with faked audition footage. About the lawsuit most of the others were bringing against Team Danganronpa, and if he wanted to sign on to it, a lawyer would come by later to talk with him.

At that, Ouma finally looked at Kaito. Kaito, miraculously, didn’t flinch. “Did you sign on to the lawsuit?”

“Uh, yeah.” Kaito started to sweat – should he not have?

But Ouma didn’t seem bothered. “I will, too, then,” he said, and Kaito relaxed.

Finally, the nurses were satisfied that Ouma was comfortable and in as good health as could be expected, and left them alone.

Kaito stood, and pulled his IV along with him as he walked over and sat on Ouma’s bed.

“You okay, man?” he asked. He reached to brush Ouma’s hair out of his face, and hesitated. What if Ouma didn’t want Kaito to touch him now?

Ouma gave him an inscrutable look. Kaito was uncomfortably reminded of the day they’d met, when he’d insisted Ouma come live with him.

Then, he tilted his head towards Kaito’s hand, and relief flooded through his veins. Kaito caressed his boyfriend’s cheek, carding gentle fingers through his hair. Ouma's eyes slipped shut, relieved bliss easy to read in his wan features.

“What about you?” Ouma finally said. “You okay? How much do you remember?”

Kaito grimaced. “I’m okay. I don’t remember a lot. Just…” Shit, what if Ouma didn’t remember it at all? Should he tell him?

What the fuck was he thinking? Of course he should.

“Just… killing you,” he whispered at last, forcing the words out through the agony of it.

Ouma gave a short, sharp, rueful bark of laughter. Kaito stared at him, wide-eyed.

“I asked you to,” Ouma said, as Kaito’s stare turned into a gut-punched gape. “I’m not mad at you, Momota. It’s okay.”

“Huh – but – then – ” Kaito stammered, trying to find a coherent way to ask all the questions flooding through him.

“We tried to trick the mastermind into being wrong in a trial, to derail and end the game,” Ouma explained. As usual, he practically read Kaito’s mind.

Well, mostly.

“You remember?” Kaito pressed.

Ouma looked away, shrugging. “More than you, at least.”

Before Kaito could push further, Ouma rolled over to face him, burrowing his head in Kaito’s lap as he clutched at his hospital shirt. He’d kept his face and voice neutral, but Kaito realized abruptly that Ouma was a wreck.

Fuck, he was an idiot. Of _course_ Ouma was a wreck. Weren’t they all?

Kaito stroked his boyfriend’s hair, steady and soothing as Ouma’s small shoulders shook with soundless sobs.

\---

The lawyer had come and gone again – Ouma peppering him with dozens more questions than Kaito had thought to – before Shuichi and Harumaki arrived for another visit.

They froze when they saw Ouma awake.

“Morning!” Kaito greeted them cheerfully, determined to see everyone become friends.

“Good morning, Momota-kun,” Shuichi replied, making a visible effort to relax. “And Ouma-kun. I’m glad you’re awake. Do you remember us?”

Ouma tilted his head quizzically, smile curious but game. “Nnnnnnnope! Why, have we met?”

“Only in the simulation,” Kaito jumped in, chuckling ruefully and rubbing the back of his head. “It’s okay, man. I can’t remember anything specific about our friends in the game, either.”

Ouma’s gaze darted briefly to Kaito, sharp and calculating, before returning to their visitors.

“Oh, well, let’s not count that!” Ouma said cheerfully, giggling. “After all, we had fake memories in there, right? So it’s not like that was the _real_ us!”

Kaito frowned. On the one hand, he _did_ want Shuichi and Harumaki to start fresh with Ouma. On the other, after talking with them yesterday, he knew that they remembered their “fictional” pasts better than their real world ones – something about not dying in the simulation allowing the implanted memories to stick, and no attempts being made to repair their original memories before being pulled out. So Ouma saying something like that, even if it was true for him…

“Even if they’re fake, those memories are part of the ‘real’ us, now,” Shuichi said, cool but at least not as thunderous as Harumaki looked.

Ouma snickered. “I meant Momota and me! I just met you, so it’s not like I know the difference between old-you and new-you!”

“Momota seems pretty similar to how he was in the killing game,” Harumaki retorted. “And so far, so do you.” She didn’t elaborate, but it was clearly an insult.

“Different pasts don’t necessarily make you different people,” Shuichi added.

Shit, this wasn’t going well.

“C’mon, it’s not like you can really get to know what someone’s like from a killing game, right?” Kaito interrupted, rubbing the back of his head. “That’s a pretty extreme situation, yeah? No one’s gonna be at their best. So no matter what, it’s better to get a fresh start, right?”

“I can’t make any other kind of start with strangers!” Ouma said cheerfully, and Kaito shot him an exasperated look. _Obviously_ he’d been trying to reassure Shuichi and Harumaki.

Shuichi took a deep breath. “You’re right, Momota-kun.” He met Harumaki’s eyes. “I think this is a good chance for us to get along better with Ouma-kun. Especially since he and Momota-kun are friends.”

Kaito very carefully didn’t flinch. But he couldn’t resist glancing at Ouma, whose eyebrows had shot up. His gaze ticked back to Kaito, and Kaito did his best to inject as much wordless plea and apology into his face as he could.

Ouma’s mouth thinned, a sign that he wasn’t happy. But he didn’t say anything, which meant he was willing to play along for now.

When Shuichi and Harumaki finally looked back at their bedridden peers, Ouma had put on a sunny smile.

“So, are you guys gonna introduce yourselves, or what?”

\---

A week later, Kaito and Ouma were discharged from the hospital. Despite the advice of the lawyer and the concerns of his parents, Kaito was determined to live as normal a life as possible.

So he went back to school, laughing and waving away the barrage of questions and admiration from his classmates. He stubbornly ignored the journalists snapping photos of him wherever he went, the TV crews dotting his route between home and school, the intrusions of total strangers whenever he was hanging out in public.

No, he had something much more important on his mind: getting Ouma to be on friendly terms with Shuichi and Harumaki.

Easier said and done, but Kaito Momota never gave up.

He still couldn’t remember anything more from the simulation, and he’d flat-out refused to watch any of the footage. Ouma acted like he couldn’t remember anything at all – around Shuichi and Harumaki, anyway. He didn’t talk about it in private either, after confessing he probably remembered more than Kaito in the hospital, but Kaito had the strong suspicion that Ouma didn’t just remember more, he remembered most, or even all of it.

The four of them had developed a routine of hanging out after school – at a café, at the movies, at a park. They took turns choosing the place. Ouma would crack jokes or make observations that sounded innocuous to Kaito, but clearly felt like a jab to Shuichi or Harumaki or both. Comments that he _didn’t_ make if one or more of the other Danganronpa victims joined them on the weekends.

It wasn’t just Ouma causing the problems, either – and Kaito had to grudgingly admit to himself that he didn’t even start it, most of the time. Shuichi and Harumaki were both unnecessarily cold to him, refusing to even acknowledge him unless asked a direct question or prompted to by Kaito. They couldn’t know it, but that was the same kind of shitty treatment Ouma got from his family – ignored if he’d done nothing notable, any necessary conversation kept as short and aloof as possible, permeated by an aura of chilly contempt. It had Ouma on edge, almost expecting the same kind of sudden, violent outburst from them as he did from his parents.

Kaito hated seeing how anxious and upset Ouma got when hanging out with them. Ouma reacted to negative feelings with irreverent humor and snide comments, which just elicited more of the cold shoulder from Shuichi and Harumaki, becoming a vicious cycle of misery and bad feelings.

But they all put up with it, because they all loved Kaito.

Kaito felt like a piece of shit, forcing his friends and his boyfriend to spend time around each other when it made them all so unhappy. But surely, they’d get used to each other, thaw out, and get along eventually, right?

And then he’d finally be able to tell Shuichi and Harumaki that he and Ouma were dating, without needing to worry how they’d take it.

In hindsight, it was really naïve, believing a status quo so riddled with lies could hold for long.

Everything collapsed on a Friday afternoon, almost a month after the end of Danganronpa.

It was Ouma’s turn to pick their hang-out spot. “It’s a secret~!” he giggled when Shuichi asked where they were going, and trotted ahead.

Shuichi and Harumaki’s eyes met, and they seemed to come to some kind of agreement. Shuichi turned and lengthened his stride to catch up with Ouma, peppering him with questions, but far enough ahead that Kaito couldn’t quite hear what they were saying.

He brightened, delighted at what looked like a breakthrough. A civil conversation he didn't need to hold their hands through!

“Hey, Momota,” Harumaki said, hands closing around one of her pigtails. “Do you still… not remember anything?”

Kaito blinked at her, wondering what brought that on. But he shrugged and gave her a bright, reassuring grin. “Not specific stuff, but I think the feelings came back, y’know? I could tell right away how much you and Shuichi mean to me. Like… if I’m Batman, you guys are Robin and Batgirl!” And Ouma was Catwoman, though he decided to leave that analogy out.

“Your sidekicks?” she asked, lips twitching to hint at a smile. Kaito snapped his fingers.

“Yeah! Exactly! That’s just the word I was looking for, Harumaki!” He clapped her on the shoulder, grinning wider. “You guys are my sidekicks, so I know I can rely on you, and you guys can rely on me! We’re a team!”

Red eyes searched his face, then lowered. Her cheeks flushed pink. “You know, before… all this, I’d… never been given a nickname like ‘Harumaki’ before.”

Kaito’s ears began to ring, and something in his chest squeezed painfully. Huh…? What… was she saying…?

“And I’ve never… met someone as stubborn as you before,” Harumaki continued. Her hands wrung her hair even more. She was staring at the ground in front of them, so she didn’t notice that the blood had drained out of Kaito’s face.

“And… I’ve never…” Harumaki’s blush deepened, and she took a deep breath.

Kaito couldn’t breathe at all.

_Don’t say it. Please don’t, Harumaki. Don’t say it!_

“…Fallen for someone before.”

The real world blurred as fictional memories flooded back.

Harumaki peeked up at him through her bangs, then froze and grabbed his arms. “Momota? Are you okay? What’s – ”

“Momota, look!” Ouma’s voice sliced through everything, echoing right in his ears even though he and Shuichi were half a block ahead of them. Kaito recognized that sinister, malicious undertone. A sense of foreboding doom thickened the air further.

 _Ouma, I’m sorry. I should have told them sooner. I fucked this up so bad. But don’t, please don’t, not_ now _–_

“It’s the abandoned theme park where we had sex for the first time!”

_Dammit, Ouma!_

Harumaki went rigid, eyes wide and haunted, face pale as a ghost.

“H… huh….?”

Memories. Feelings. Regrets.

Kaito buckled under the weight of it all, and collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was pretty heavy to write and on the longer side, so I wasn't able to finish in time. 8') I'll TRY to have part 2 up tomorrow, but if not tomorrow hopefully very soon!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Kokichi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late!! I got distracted by other stuff, and, well… this was really hard to write. 8’) (I’ll go more into why in the end notes.)

Kokichi hadn’t meant to reveal their relationship status like that.

The plan had been to have a normal playdate, with the location being an unspoken warning to Momota that this charade had better end soon.

But he’d glanced over his shoulder and recognized immediately what was going on. He could read lips well enough to infer what she was saying. He may have been dead when she spoke those words the first time, but unlike Momota, he’d watched all the Danganronpa footage.

In that split second, a thousand ugly feelings had flooded through him. He’d been so torn up by the maesltrom of anguish and anxiety and insecurity and jealousy and resentment that he’d spat the poison out before he’d realized something was wrong with Kaito.

Kokichi couldn’t remember much of their journey back to the hospital. Just that Saihara had called an ambulance, he’d texted Kaito’s parents, and then there they were in the waiting room, silent and seething. Saihara and Harukawa on one side of the room, Kokichi on the other.

The minutes ticked on and on. Kokichi refused to be the one to reach out first.

Kaito’s parents arrived, pale and drawn. They nodded a brief greeting to Saihara and Harukawa before Atsuko, Kaito’s mother, hurried to Kokichi.

She took his face in her hands, tilting it back and forth as she searched for any sign of pain or illness. She fussed over him a lot. Kokichi didn’t really enjoy it, but he pretended he did, and made the effort not to flinch at an adult’s physical contact. He’d moved in with the Momota family four months ago, and they’d been kinder and warmer to him than his own family. They’d been nothing but supportive of his relationship with Momota, too.

“You okay, Kokichi?” Atsuko finally asked, as Hiroto, Kaito’s father, spoke with the nurse who’d come to meet them.

“Yeah,” Kokichi replied, aware of the heavy weight of Saihara and Harukawa’s gazes on him. “Momota just fainted. I dunno why.”

“Something triggered his memories of the simulation to return,” the nurse informed them, with Hiroto’s encouragement. “It overwhelmed him a little, that’s all. He’s fine. He’s already awake.”

Some of the tension eased out of the room.

“Momota-san, will you and your wife come with me to see him?” the nurse asked.

“Come on, Kokichi.” Atsuko took his hand, and made as if to pull him along with her. Kokichi glanced at Saihara, hoping the not-detective would see and understand the silent question in his eyes.

Saihara hesitated. He looked at Harukawa, then back at Kokichi.

_Good, he’s ready to talk._

“That’s okay,” Kokichi said, and pulled his hand away. He didn’t give her a reason, but the Momotas were used to that with him. Atsuko gave him one last look-over, as if to make sure the nurses hadn’t missed him bleeding all over the place, and then nodded. She and Hiroto left with the nurse.

Kokichi watched them go. Once the door shut, he looked back at the other two.

Harukawa still wouldn’t look at him, but no surprises there. Saihara had the sharp eyes and thinned mouth of someone who was thinking their words over carefully.

“You remember the simulation, right? Ouma-kun.”

_Is that where we’re starting? Roundabout as ever, Saihara-chan._

Kokichi spread his hands in concession. “Not entirely, but close enough. I watched the footage, too.”

“So why didn’t you say anything?” Saihara asked coolly.

“About what?” Kokichi asked, crossing his arms. “To who? I’m not a mind reader, Saihara.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you remembered everything? Or Momota-kun? You just keep lying to us – ”

“You’re lying to yourself,” Kokichi sneered. “You already knew I remembered. I’ve made that obvious, right? Momota knew I remembered, too. If you don’t think so, just ask him,” he added, before Saihara could protest. “What’s your real problem with me, Saihara?”

 Saihara leaned back, brow furrowing.

“Why,” Harukawa started, speaking up for the first time, “didn’t you tell us that…”

She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. But from the dull, empty way she spoke, the pain in her eyes, Kokichi could figure it out himself.

_Why didn’t you tell us you two were dating?_

That was the last question Kokichi wanted to answer honestly. But he did anyway. Now that the tension had been lanced and the envious poison drained away, he could admit that in all of this, regardless of how he felt about her personally, Harukawa was the only one who hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Because I don’t like you,” Kokichi replied, shrugging to disguise just how vehemently he meant it. Off-handedly, he added, “Besides, you guys are Momota’s friends, not mine. It should’ve been _his_ job to tell you. And I was mad that he didn’t.”

Harukawa stilled. It didn’t even look like she was breathing. “Since when?” she asked, the question ghosting past her lips.

“Seven months, ish.”

“Before the game.”

“Yeah.”

“So…” Harukawa pursed her lips. Took a deep, shaking breath. Let it out. “He lied to us.”

Kokichi rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. It’s not as big a deal as you’re making it out to be.” Not for _her_ , anyway. “It’s not even all that surprising! He might not have remembered why, but he knew what to expect from you two. He wanted us to get along before he said anything, so you wouldn’t freak out about it.”

Harukawa’s jaw clenched. “As usual, you only see things in the way that’s most convenient for you.”

“So do you,” Kokichi retorted coolly.

“At least _I_ know I’m capable of being wrong,” Harukawa said, somehow fierce and miserable at the same time.

Kokichi bristled at that – but, with effort, didn’t verbalize any more of his distaste and dislike for her. Besides, if he backed down first, he’d have the high ground with Momota later.

So instead he only looked away, as if conceding the point. And his eyes fell on Saihara, who’d been quiet since Kokichi’s pointed question.

“I hadn’t thought about it that deeply before,” Saihara murmured, easily heard in the stony silence. “But I _do_ have a problem with you, Ouma-kun.”

_No shit,_ Kokichi thought sardonically. He’d noticed that ages ago, since exploring the new areas after Akamatsu’s trial, way back during the killing game. He even had some general guesses as to why, but if Saihara had finally figured it out and was willing to share that information, that was even better.

“After Akamatsu-san…” Saihara swallowed, and started again. “After her trial, you acted like… it was no big deal. Not just then – you never seemed to care about any of the awful things that happened. You never cared about anyone else’s feelings. No matter what your intentions were, to me, that kind of callous apathy…” He met Kokichi’s eyes, his own gaze burning. “It’s unforgivable.”

It took every ounce of self-control Kokichi had to keep his face smooth, expression blank. So that’s how Saihara saw him, huh?

_Some detective. He really is shitty at reading people, isn’t he?_

Saihara was always too caught up in objective truths. The whats, hows, whens, wheres. But the only _whys_ he’d shown any interest in during the killing game, were Akamatsu’s and Harukawa’s. And _why_ was the most important question of all, when it came to understanding other people.

That’s one of the things Kokichi liked so much about Momota. He was always so driven to find out _why_.

It hurt, to know Saihara didn’t care why Kokichi did anything. But by now, it wasn’t a surprise. Kokichi had known Saihara didn’t care about the _whys_ of people he disagreed with since Gonta’s trial. That’s what had caused that brief schism between him and Momota, after all. He hadn’t shown any care or consideration for why Momota wanted so badly to believe in Gonta, once the evidence of the whos, whats, wheres, whens, and hows had come to light.

Seriously, it was beyond irritating that Saihara’s opinions mattered enough to cause him any pain at all. Kokichi should never have expected anything different from someone who valued uncovering every truth, no matter how brutal, and upholding society’s arbitrary laws, regardless of how many living, breathing people they hurt.

Kokichi put on a fake, bright, cheerful smile. “See? Doesn’t it feel better to do some good old introspection sometimes? You should try it more often, Saihara-chan.”

Momota would be disappointed, but it would probably be best for everyone if Kokichi didn’t try to hang out with the two people who hated him most in the world anymore.

Kokichi stood, stretched, and tossed Saihara and Harukawa a saucy wink. Then he curled his arms behind his head and strolled from the room as casually as he could manage, making a beeline for his boyfriend’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s pretty difficult to balance Kokichi, Saihara, and Maki’s perspectives and feelings without demonizing any of them. I don’t think I did that in part 1 as well as I should or could have, so I struggled to do it better this time. 
> 
> To be absolutely, perfectly clear, I don’t think anyone was really “in the wrong,” per se. Kokichi (either pre-game or in-game) is pretty clearly someone who comes from painful circumstances, and has learned to deal with pain and horror by using humor and lies as a coping mechanism, and by cutting himself off emotionally as much as possible. But that doesn’t mean Saihara and Harukawa aren’t justified in feeling hurt and angry at the way he treats them and/or people they care about. They’re not obligated to endure abuse just because it originated from trauma. (I don’t think Saihara even cares enough about why Kokichi says or does anything to realize that there’s a lot of trauma there, but even if he did, I don’t think he’d have any patience for it.)
> 
> What makes Kaito so special is that he does care why people do terrible things, and he wants to help them overcome those “whys” – fight their enemies – and become better people. And he keeps trying to help them even if they lash out at him for it; he does his best to strike the balance between helping others and holding them accountable for their actions. I think a lot of people don't realize just how difficult that can be, and how much compassion it shows. But of course, even he makes mistakes sometimes, even if he was acting from good intentions and trying to protect the feelings of people he cared about. (And sorry for the lack of Kaito in this chapter; I just really wanted to spotlight the difficult interpersonal dynamics between the other three.)
> 
> Sorry to go off on a tangent. I was a little chagrined to realize I hadn’t spent enough time and effort in part 1 making it clear that Maki and Saihara were supposed to be just as sympathetic as Kokichi (and if anything, they have way more moral high ground than Kokichi or Kaito!). Sometimes, people just don’t get along; it’s no one’s fault, it’s just the way things are when we live in a world of over seven billion unique individuals. The only mistake was trying to force incompatible people to get along, and you can’t blame Kaito for that; he just wanted his friends to love each other as much as he loves them. (But yeah, he ain’t gonna try that again, lol.)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate that you read to the end, even if you disagree with my take on things and/or didn’t like it. A special shout-out to everyone who left kudos and comments on my Oumota Week stuff. You guys rock!! <3


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